50 Snapshots
by Bloodyx3Massacre
Summary: A drabble challenge that contains 50 'Snapshots' into Roy's and Ed's life. Rules of this challenge within. Joint awareness of a Gay Pride/Breast Cancer thing.
1. Challenge

Author's Note: So I'm in bed and bored with this raging flu/allergies when BAM! Great idea moment. Call up my friend and ask him to give me 50 random things off the top of his head. Then I asked him a topic. He told me about this Gay Pride thing going around here soon to help with the Breast Cancer Organization Charity. Two of the most important things I could think of. 1) Because my brother and some friends are gay and 2) Because I need something to do and this takes care of it. That's basically how this was made. So save the ta-ta's and support NO-H8 cause to be quiet honest, we're all gonna die in the end anyway, might as well die happy with someone you love.

If anyone else wants to do this challenge, please send me the link. I'd love to read what you have to write.

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Ryo's Drabble Challenges (50)

-Must only be 300 words or shorter.

1. Meat Loaf

2. Books

3. Earphones

4. Batteries

5. Winter

6. Typewriters

7. Glasses

8. Chair

9. Dog

10. Air

12. Trees

13. Roof

14. Cough Drops

15. Dice

16. Grass/Lawn

17. Fence

18. Water

19. Shoes/Boots

20. Bottles

21. Swords

22. Movies

23. Boxes

24. Medicine

25. Mirror

26. Food

27. Pillows

28. Carpet

29. Towels

30. Thread

31. Ice Cubes

32. Bills

33. Military

34. Photographs

35. Hair

36. Clocks

37. Phones

38. Paper Bags

39. Crayons

40. Bed Sheets

41. Rain

42. Static/Electricity

43. Rocks

44. Steel

45. Flames/Fire

46. Dragons

47. Leather

48. Couches/Sofas

49. Sound

50. Life


	2. Meat Loaf

Author's Note: So I'm fairly certain I can get quite a few done over the weekend. So maybe 10 done by Monday. They are rather fun to do.

Word Count: 219

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He poked it with the end of his fork and pulled back quickly. He thinks its dead. Hell, something that _burnt_ would hopefully be dead. Well… If whatever it was, was even alive at one time. The _thing_ on his plate was blackened almost to a crisp on the edges and on the top and its sides slightly crumbled. Carefully deciding that whatever it was was indeed not going to bite him, he poked it again. Slowly edging the singed _thing_ away from the mashed potatoes and the roasted carrots, he did a tedious check over to make sure none of the falling debris contaminated the edible portions on his plate.

"Ed… It won't bite you…"

"I think it blinked at me…"

"It was never alive…"

"I think I saw something like this on the side of the road once…"

The older man at the table sighed and looked at his own miserable plate. He ran one hand through his deep black hair and cringed. It wasn't really his fault he couldn't hear the timer from the bedroom as last minute preparations were being taken care of. He never intended the once edible creation to turn into a now charred excuse of matter. He sighed again and looked up away from his meat loaf.

"Take out again?"

"You bet."


	3. Books

Author's Note: Woot. 2 down 48 to go. These are so fun yet so small. I should call them fun size. Roy is gonna go bald by the time I finish this. Poor guy keeps running his hands thru his hair.

Word Count: 298 I just barely got it under the 300 limit.  
_

* * *

Hmm… He's a boy and boys play with… trucks?_ He picked up the small item and looked at it in his hand. _No._

_Maybe those little toy soldiers?_ He looked at the small plastic men that looked exactly like the Amestris military and then saw one that strangely enough looked like Hawkeye with her gun. He quickly scrambled away from the small figurine and out of the store. _No._

_Maybe he'd like some chemicals for his alchemy? _He scanned all the bottles until his eyes rested on a bottle that was labeled 'Scream of Mute'. He immediately left the store. _No._

_What about a dre- Wait… A guy… _He slowly turned from peering into the glass window at the handcrafted flourished dresses. _No._

_Hughes is better at this… Flowers? _He took a sip of his coffee he picked up and absentmindedly looked over a nearby flower stand. _Too much like 'Get Well Soon'. No._

_What about food. He never turns down something to eat. _Scanning silently over the many chocolate displays in a nearby window, he ran a hand in his black shining hair. _Garcia will handle all the food though. No._

Roy sauntered back into the office with a dejected look and sat down behind his desk once more to continue the ever breeding paperwork. He could swear they were mass reproducing while he didn't look at them. He quietly looked out his window still thinking over his possible gifts for the young blonde's birthday which was just an hour after work ended. He had to get him something.

"Sir?"

Startled, he looked up at Hawkeye with her all knowing look.

"Why don't you get him a book?" She silently shuffled away after laying down more paperwork on his desk.

_Note to self: Give Hawkeye a raise._

_

* * *

_Cause I love reviews:

Spiralnoteboooks: I'm hoping to have humor in all of these cause I mean, hey, everyone needs a good laugh.

I really want the little Hawkeye soldier figurine with guns. It would be so cute.


	4. Headphones

Author's Note: Absolutely love this song and when I had it on my ipod running in a loop BAM! The little vindictive fluff bunnies of story-telling doom hit me. These are too much fun to do. I'm gonna end up in rehab at this rate. I only post one until I get a review. I'm just that damn stubborn.

Word Count: 299 Right on the money, baby.

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The tune played on repeat through the small little red earphones.

_l get more and more strange…_

He lazily chuckled to himself and rolled over onto his stomach on the window seat. Idly he smiled to himself, being content that the seat could fit at least three large adult men and with his stature… He mentally slapped himself. No one heard him think that. He was NOT small…

_I'm going insane I'm building it up…_

He pulled his jacket tighter around him as he lay haphazardly near the small room heater. His breath made small patterns against the bitter cold window as the snow poured down.

_I'm a troublemaking rebel_

_Made a deal with the devil_

_I'm way past ever coming back…_

There we go. Now that was definitely him to the tee. He flipped over again onto his back, rubbing his ports carefully and turning the song up louder. The room comfortably toasty and the plush pillow seats acting as a tender bed as the snow and the world drifted around.

_It's my destiny…_

Of course… Only he would believe in destiny. He would have rolled his eyes if they had been open. Destiny was right there on his list next to large, almighty powers with which people worship to death and rabbits bouncing around shitting chocolate eggs with painted decorations… Hoorah for destiny, least the rabbits were very delicious broiled.

_The product of a…_

He silently scooted over as he felt the light nudge at his side, then the broad freezing cold body lay next to him. With a soft, muffled sigh, the other body quickly curled around the body heat. One of the red little headphones was removed and place into the ear of the larger man next to him.

_Dysfunctional family…_

He loved it though…

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Review(s): ftw

Alternateapocalypse: First off, I love your name. I've got a rather dry, sarcastic humor. So if you like pessimistic, cynical views, I'm your writer.

Do send reviews. I love them. If you're shy, just add the story to alerts. It makes my tender heart all warm and gushy. If you get the song right, I'll let you pick one of the topics then give me something you want to happen in it. Cause I am that damn magical.


	5. Batteries

Author's Note: Well, instead of typing these as a spur on the moment in Microsoft Word, I've been writing them in class. Extremely bored and dully tired, these have kept me sane and awake. Two of the best things possible when trying to set your teacher's papers on her desk on flames by snapping and/or glaring.

Word Count: 280

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The small, fluffy cat doll stood lifelessly on the table before him. His eyes scanned up to the clock then back down to the car. The decorative box long since removed and the shiny yellow bow shone brightly. It was a helpful suggestion from the young Alphonse about the small doll for Elysia's birthday. Right after, the suit of armor had been tackled and a small, yelling blond sat in the chest piece holding up the offending creature that dared meow at him.

The rant had been quite interesting from his load of paperwork until Hawkeye came in… With her gun… Freshly polished… He shuddered at the thought. It was like a traumatized scarring event. No work equals pain and expensive bills for a very bad night, with terrible food, and an ache of a hangover formed by an alcohol-less night. It had its pros too though. No strange people in his bed in the morning and no random clothing left and found at an awkward moment, sure to leave a mark he'd never forget, especially by Hughes.

His eyes lay on the small doll. The thing was suppose to move and make noise, but it didn't.

Scanning the clock, he realized he spent an hour spacing out. Sighing and running his hand through his hair. The toy just would not move.

Clearing of the throat and a flash of gold and red caught his attention.

"Broke your toy already?"

"It never worked."

Edward picked up the toy, and then flipped it over.

Edward stared at him, gawking. Then he sighed defeated.

"Hawkeye." He reached into his pocket and tossed something at Roy.

"Do try to think more. Batteries."

Oh…

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Review time: (Because reviewers need love too.)

Thank you to

XxForest-DragonxXReclusive MetaltoobeautysonofafluffymuffinWhiteIcePhoenixToo-Big-To-Be-A-ShrimpxXSMiZXx  
and Alternateapocalypse: Who sucked up to me greatly with a dish of flattery. Well I'll give it to you since you named the song but not the artist. So, pick a topic and tell me how you think it should go, BUT since you only gave me half the answer I'm going to put on hell of a twist into the plot!

I'm going to do a few more events like that so be prepared!

Auf Wiedersehe 


	6. Winter

Author's Note: Popping out 2 or more at a time. Don't ya love me?

Word Count: 289

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Winter was very well symbolized as death and sadness. It was cold and bare. The air was crisp and the snow had claws. His Automail ports ached with vengeance.

He hated winter. Winter hated him.

His red jacket was warm, but the amount of metal he carried almost nullified the warmth. He sat on the snow covered steps of headquarters.

He snorted to himself. He should wish for the old man in red who had pedophilia moments once a year by having kids sit on his lap for a warmer jacket or maybe to ban winter with weather controlling alchemy. He didn't believe in fairy tales he would read to his younger brother.

The wind nipped again. That was it! Winter was invented by the Gate. The small clawing hands had to be the invisible wind. Slowly and carefully he tucked himself tighter in the jacket. The soft furry edging of his hood was hanging low in his face. He had come out here for a small break from the paperwork crowded room. Havoc, having joined him for a smoke, had already scurried away.

His mind lingered on the theory of the Gate creating winter for its own sick pleasure when a heavy black coat laid across his small shoulders and pooled around him, obviously belonging to someone much taller. The military standard boots were clearly visible next to him. Then a body plopped beside him.

"Cold?"

He snorted. Rhetorical question?

"So I got this theory, Mustang."

"Yea?"

"It's the Gates fault."

"Fault for?"

"Winter."

The older man stared him, mouth agape.

"Oh don't give me that look."

"You spend your time thinking of theories of how the Gate tortures people."

"You spend your time hiding remains of paperwork burned to ashes from Hawkeye."

"…Touché."

The older man stood up and stretched. "Back to work already."

Edward stood up as well. The heavy black jacket fluttered around him when he realized it was Mustangs. Before he could return it, Mustang was already gone. He smiled at the thick smell of cologne and the smoky scent of flames. He grinned at the warmth. Literal and figurative warmth.

He liked winter.

* * *

I'm an ass when it comes to holiday supported characters. Ex: Easter bunny, Saint Nicholas. Yeah good times.


	7. Typewriter

So I've been a bit tied with schooling and work, but I have numerous yellow sheets of complete drabbles waiting to get typed. I'm just being slow. Very slow.

Word Count: 256

* * *

They kept their office affection limited. Small looks, brief touches, discreet smiles, and tiny passed notes encrypted from office to library by oblivious carriers. It wasn't much, just a little flirting game. No one caught on except for Hughes, who was automatically told by Roy and possibly the ever watching gaze of Hawkeye. Roy and Hughes suspected that the youngest Elric knew of the office romance, but neither man was sure.

They slowly gave up on trying to hide noticeable things from the unit, especially with Hughes coming in with many photos of Edward asleep in the library or playing with his precious daughter and Roy would wander over to take an uncharacteristic peek. Often he blamed it on wanting blackmail material.

Today though, both men were out of the office. One, self imprisoned in the Central Library, and the other in long, tedious meetings with other officers who couldn't give a damn whether the budget for office paper is five pounds a kilo, needing at least 837 stacks for all of Central offices, a stack containing 3.25 kilos. How much paperwork could they breed in the storage room?

Hmm… Flame fodder.

During a quick fifteen minute break, Roy vanished from sight.

The small blond returned to the table he was using. Books piled high all around a small, dull typewriter. He quickly sat down and started fumbling with papers and books. Once all setup, he moved to the typewriter, but froze. A large grin formed slowly.

_Dinner. Ruby's on Main and Third. 7 o'clock. Love.

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_

Sinra's Notebook: Thank you.  
toobeauty: Sometimes I'm in a fluffy mood other times I'm in my drinking, sarcastic mood. Must say though, sarcastic mood ftw!  
sonofafluffymuffin: Sad thing is that was a real conversation with a friend. I didn't know if the thing was blinking at me. 


	8. Glasses

Jumping right in.

Word Count: 267

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There in the small den, protected from the cold and rain outside, was a great fire in the fireplace. The walls cocooning the warmth and not letting a single ounce seep away. The rhythmic beat of rain and soft tenor of a voice playing on the melody filled the room. The sound of slight snoring and even breathing echoed in the room, bouncing off bookshelves. A tall man was sprawled out on the couch with his feet over one arm of the couch and his head resting on the other arm. An arm with a book hanging in his lax hand rested on the floor. A sip of whiskey left abandoned in a glass sat at the small table besides the plush couch.

A tiny click and a louder breathing echoed in the room. The book was picked up and placed onto the table. The fire was stoked, rekindling sparks turning to flames. A blanket floated down over the sleeping figure and tucked in. The figure shifted and made a whimpering sound, snuggling into the blanket.

There was a soft chuckle that rebounded off the walls. A pair of small, black metal framed glasses were pulled off and place onto the book on the table.

"Sleep easy, old man."

The young blond moved to the door.

"Not that old to see how short you are…"

A gruff mumbled replied with coloured remarks and then a shifting.

"The glasses look nice on you…"

"Hmm? You're too short to hear from here."

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING TO-"

The response was ended in midstride.

"You look good in glasses."

"Hush."


	9. Chairs

Author's Blatant Whogivesashit Speech: Oh look. 3 updates within 2 days. Nice aren't I? Anyway, lotta shit going on, but I'm getting a 5 day weekend soon so I might pick up a full story. Check that out. Wouldn't mind an opinion on it. Sarcasm galore with a Roy/Ed hint of Ed/Russell, cause god knows two sarcastic, sexy blonds make a girl's heart go bumpy-bump with a sickening thud of cardiac arrest. Anyway, AltApco finally picked out a story she wanted me to do so congrats her. I kind of feel bad with all the fluff stories. I need some good old fashion 'Go pound sand up your ass, you old perverted Flaming Pony!' sarcasm type story.

Word Count: 298

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There were always enough chairs and them some in the office. None of the chairs matched. Each was specifically chosen by the owner. Roy had the high back, black leather chair giving the impression of a strong and professional leader. Hawkeye's chair was what one would call 'a woman's touch in a male world.' Her chair was a comfortable maroon swivel chair with a sweater on the back. Brenda's chair resembled a lazy boy chair, very wide and very comfortable. Havoc's chair smelled like smoke. The semi-comfortable, low back swivel chair had small burns from where ash had fallen from the man's cigarette. Falman's chair literally looked like it had come out of some aristocrat's house. All the older man needed was a pipe and an expensive silk outfit. Kain Fuery had a very thin, small chair with wheels so he could move quickly about while fixing electrical parts. Alphonse's chair was simply made of wood. He could not feel so the chair was only for strength to hold the armor. On the legs of the chair were many, thin claw marks from stray kittens he was able to sneak in.

Edward's chair was different. There was nothing personal about it. It was a simple black swivel chair. No personal effects had been added. Simply standard military issued working chair.

That of course was only to the untrained eye and someone who had never worked with Edward.

In the base of the chair, secret notes, journal entries, money, and pictures were stashed. They were everything he needed in case something happened, like if he had to escape the military quickly. The only way to get to the notes and journals would be to alchemise the base.

Though, Roy knew how to open and leave little notes. Love notes.

* * *

The fluff will soon consume and strangle me.

Thanks to

Funni-chan and Kuroi In a Black Hole for the faves.

Yea, I guess since I'm the one who wrote this and my friend can literally read my mind to pick up the sentences I didn't write, at the end of the last story Glasses, Roy gets off the couch with the glasses in hands, kiss Edward, and then puts them on Edward. Ed was the one who said 'Hush.' and Roy was the one teasing him about it. Sorry for confusion. 


	10. Dogs

This one is short and yes! I have decided to create a chapter story. Ohhhh! Ahhhh! Ok enough of the boring Oh La La stuff.

Word Count: 193

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Hawkeye loves Black Hayate. Black Hayate loves everyone… except Roy.

Roy was baffled at why. He loves dogs. Their unwavering loyalty to their master, their undying love, and the simple fact of never saying no.

As long as he could remember, he had never done anything wrong to make the small dog angry at him.

He found out why the little dog 'did not like him' one day after coming back from lunch early when he noticed Hawkeye was working through hers. She wasn't alone though.

"This will be payback for coming in late… again."

He hid around the corner listening to her.

"This is revenge for forgetting dinner… again." The other voice said.

He slapped his forehead then scrubbed his face. Of course, Edward was pissed about the dinner plans last night he forgot about. He quickly walked around the corner. The two blonds looked surprised. Then they both grinned evilly.

Roy gulped and slowly backed up.

"Black Hayate!"

"Kiss kiss!"

The little dog bounded at Roy, knocking him over and then proceeded to lick his face, soaking it efficiently.

Black Hayate didn't hate him, he was just a pawn.

Evil blonds.


End file.
